


What now?

by randomaquarius



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Implied Smut, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Lesbian AU, More characters to be added, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomaquarius/pseuds/randomaquarius
Summary: Trixie just killed her boyfriend and she still can’t believe it.  She must be a psycho, or something.  And then she meets Katya, who may or may not be crazy.  Against all odds, the two criminals fall in love and travel all over the country to right the wrongs committed against them.





	1. There's been a murder

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea hit me like a freight train the other day, and, like, I couldn't not write it, so here we go on this wild ass ride.

She didn’t mean to do it.  But yet, Nicholas lay dead on the ground in front of her and she didn’t feel one bit sad.  As the realization of what she’d just done washed over her, Trixie dropped the kitchen knife and gripped the counter for support.  Slowly, she crouched down next to him to make sure he was really dead. 

With one pink nailed finger, she peeled back one of his eyelids.  His eye met hers, completely unseeing and rapidly becoming discolored.  She shuddered, pushing the eyelid closed and standing back up.

_ Wait, I’m going to be arrested for this! _ She thought.  She started hyperventilating.   _ Think, Trixie, think. _  She had seen enough crime shows on TV late at night that she knew she had to make it look like a suicide.  She looked around frantically. Piece by piece, a scheme began forming in her head. 

She had grabbed the knife from the sink behind her, which was full of dirty dishes.  If she managed to get his fingerprints on it by putting it in his hand, it would make it look like Trixie had merely put it in the sink to wash before he got to it.  She had the knife secured in his hand within a few minutes. Now that that was done, she’d have to make it look like she’d left the house before he’d died. She grabbed a pen and paper and began writing.

_ My dearest Nicholas, _

_ I am very sorry.  Our relationship has been declining for months now, and I’ve decided to take action.  Although it pains me ever so greatly to do so, I’m leaving you for good, and I’m not coming back.  Do not try to reach me, for I simply cannot bear to speak to you. We can never see each other again. _

_ Goodbye forever, _

_ Trixie _

She read the letter over.  It seemed like something from a telenovela, but it was just dramatic enough to conceivably drive Nicholas to suicide.

Trixie sprinted upstairs to pack up her things.  She threw clothes into her suitcase unfolded, fitting in as much as she could.  She threw open the drawer of Nicholas’ nightstand, grabbing what money was in there.  The last thing she took with her was her guitar, which she’d had before she’d even met Nicholas.

She tossed everything in the back of her 2005 Prius, just wanting to get away.  She didn’t know where she was going, but she supposed that it didn’t really matter.  She’d gone about fifteen miles before she hit someone.

The strangest woman Trixie had ever seen sprinted out into the middle of the road as Trixie slammed on the brakes.  She jumped out of the car and hurried around to see if the woman was okay. The woman was lying on the ground, unmoving.

“Goddamnit!” Trixie said.  “First, I kill Nicholas. Now, some random woman that never did anything to-”

“Who’s Nicholas?”

Trixie screamed.  The woman whom Trixie had considered dead had just sat up and spoken.

“Shh!  Don’t scream!  I’m not going to hurt you!” the woman said in a Russian accent.

“Y-you were dead!” Trixie cried, terrified.

“Ah, all just theatrics.” the woman said, waving it off as if it were nothing.

“Well, is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, no, I’m just fine.”

“Let me at least give you a ride, it’s the least I can do after almost killing you!”

“Actually,” the woman said.  “A ride would be great. Let me get my things.”  She scampered off to the side of the road, where she pulled two suitcases out of the ditch.  Trixie opened the back of the car and helped her set them next to her own suitcases. The woman got into the passenger’s seat of the car.  “The name’s Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, but you can just call me Katya.” she said, sticking out her hand.

“Trixie.  Trixie Mattel.” Trixie said, shaking Katya’s hand.

“Well hello, Miss Trixie.”

“Where to?” she asked.

“Nowhere in particular.”

“Same here.” Trixie said, starting the car.  “Where are you from?”

“Boston, originally.”  She noticed Trixie’s confused expression.

“But-”

“The accent?  More theatrics, darling, what can I say?” Katya said without the accent.  “My turn. Where are  _ you _ from?”

Trixie sighed.  “Some tiny little farm town here in Wisconsin.”

“Nice.”

“Boring.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s just, there was nothing there.  It was all little farms and little people who lived little provincial lives.” she said.  “It could drive you insane!”

“And what did you want to do outside of that little provincial life, Miss Trixie Mattel?” Katya asked, resting her chin on her hand.

“I wanted to be a singer.  I’d get to travel around the country, see things I never could have imagined, even in my wildest dreams!  I would-” she cut herself off. “Wait, why am I telling you this?”

“Because I’m easy to talk to.” Katya said.  “Who’s this Nicholas person?”

“He’s—he was—my boyfriend.” Trixie said, keeping her eyes on the road.

“What do you mean ‘he was’?”

“There was an accident.”

“Meaning?”

“I...I killed him.”  Trixie realized that this was the first time she’d actually uttered those words aloud.  “I’m a horrible person.”

“Oh no, I’m much worse.” Katya reassured her.  “Was he a jerk?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“So good riddance!”  Katya tossed her hands in the air.  “Say it with me! Good riddance!”

“Good riddance.” Trixie muttered.

“That was pathetic!  Louder!” Katya protested.  “Like you mean it! He was an asshole, and now he’s gone!”

“Good riddance!” she said, a little louder this time.

“I can’t hear you!”

“GOOD RIDDANCE!” Trixie yelled.

“THERE WE GO!” Katya yelled back.

“GOOD RIDDANCE!”

“HASTA LA VISTA!”

“BYE, BITCH!”

“SEE YOU IN HELL, MOTHERFUCKER!” Katya yelled.

Trixie dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“That’s the spirit!” Katya said.  “I’ve got a proposal.”

“What?”

“Why don’t we drive around the country, just you and me, achieving justice for everything bad that’s ever happened to us!” Katya proposed, her eyes bright.  “Whaddya say?”

Trixie looked deep in thought for a moment.  She shook her head. “Fuck it.” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Katya whooped.

“Wait,” Trixie said.  Katya grew quiet. “What about money?  I’ve only got a little bit.”

“Don’t worry.” Katya reassured her.  “I know some people.”

“I won’t ask.”

“Good idea.” she paused to read a road sign.  “What say we start off in Milwaukee? I’ve got a friend or two there who can get us some extra cash.”

“Right.  First stop: Milwaukee!”

“Here we come!” 


	2. Mysterious Muses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie and Katya arrive at a mysterious club, and they meet some even more mysterious people.

Trixie pulled the car over and parked on a vacant street corner in Milwaukee.  It was nearly midnight, a detail that Katya had specified. Her ‘friends’ were only active at night.

“Is this it?” she asked, craning her neck to try and see some kind of sign alluding to where exactly they were stopped.

“Yup.” Katya said, opening the car door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.  “Come on.”

“Where the fuck are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Katya led her into a deserted alleyway, looking around as if to make sure they weren’t being followed.  She stopped in front of a lone garbage can lid that lay flat on the ground.

“Here we are!” she said excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

Trixie looked around.

“I don’t get it.  There’s nothing here except an alley!”

“But is there?” Katya said.  She knelt down and picked up the garbage can lid.  Or rather, she opened a trapdoor in the pavement that had been disguised as a garbage can lid.

Trixie bent down and peered down into the hole in the pavement, a look of shocked wonder on her face.

“After you, m’lady.” Katya said, offering her a hand, which Trixie took as she descended the ladder down into the faint purple glow.

The two women climbed down into what appeared to be a club.  Purple neon lights snaked along the walls and ceiling as music blasted through unseen speakers.  People dressed in odd, expensive looking clothing were all around them, holding slender glasses filled with everything from champagne to a dark glittery liquid that was unidentifiable.  Several people were gathered around a large stage at one end of the room. The silver lettering on the velvety, plum colored curtains read ‘Max’s Mystique’. A woman with short red hair wearing a black rhinestoned jumpsuit was up on the stage, contorting herself into seemingly impossible positions.  Katya sauntered up to a woman surrounded by a crowd of people at the bar.

“Well, Katya, what a surprise.” the woman said.  She spoke like an old Hollywood film star, with an accent that was almost British in sound.  She wore a large black coat with shoulder pads over crisp black slacks. Her slicked back grey hair made her look very professional, like whatever she said was to be obeyed.

“Hello, Max.” Katya said, more dignified than Trixie had expected from the eccentric Katya.  “I see you’ve replaced me?” She gestured in the general direction of the stage.

“Never.” Max said.  “She’s new. Scarlet brought her from Colorado, insisted I give her a job, and I can never say no to such an intriguing performer.  You would know.”

Katya looked out over the crowd.  “Shall we find a more private place to talk?”

“Oh, of course, darling.”  Max stood, waving away the other patrons of the bar.  She led Trixie and Katya to a black door that she unlocked with a thin silver key in the shape of the letter ‘X’ with two lines closing off the top and bottom of the letter, like an hourglass.  The door opened to reveal a hallway lined with other doors. They followed Max all the way to the end of the hallway to a door with her name on it. She unlocked it with the same key. Inside, she gestured for the other two women to have a seat on a deep purple settee.  Deep purple wallpaper covered the walls, swathed in a swirling pattern.

Trixie stopped listening as Katya and Max made idle smalltalk.  She looked up at a line of photographs in silver frames that hung on the wall.  Each one was labeled in swirling calligraphy. Trixie read each of the names, carefully examining the portraits of the women.  

_ The Muses: Max, Violet, Fame, Katya, Pearl, Scarlet, Yvie. _

Trixie recognized Max and Katya, of course, and she figured out that Yvie had been the one performing onstage.  The others she didn’t recognize. Violet wore her sleek black curls like the pinup models of the 1940s and 50s, staring the camera down through long black lashes as if she were daring someone to cross her.  Fame also wore her hair in a vintage-like style, except hers was blonde. She didn’t stare directly into the camera as Violet had done, but rather off into the distance like an all-knowing oracle. She and Yvie were the only ones not photographed wearing red lipstick.  Pearl stared into the unknown with a blank, empty expression in her eyes, her blonde hair half covering her face in a meticulously braided updo. Scarlet regarded the camera with what could be described as a slightly lustful look in her eye. Her hair was brown, but with red tones scattered throughout, and it fell loosely in waves around her shoulders.  Yvie had a noticeably darker skin tone than the other women portrayed up on the wall. Her expression looked as though she was rather unamused. Her hair was in the same short, red, curls that it had been in when Trixie last saw her.

“And who’s this?” Max asked, turning to Trixie.

“Trixie.” she said.

“Wonderful to meet you, Trixie.” she said with a small smile, extending a hand for Trixie.  They shook hands. Max turned her attention back to Katya and clicked her tongue. “Violet won’t be happy about this.”

Katya groaned.  “Is she here?”

“But of course.” she said.  “She wouldn’t miss seeing you for the world.”

Trixie looked at Katya, confused.

“I’ll explain later,” Katya reassured her.  “Max, could we maybe keep Violet away from this whole situation?”

“Of c-”

The door burst open, and the woman who Trixie recognized from the photos as Violet sashayed into the room in a floor length gown that was covered in rhinestones from the top of the bodice to the bottom of the hem.  Her waist was so impossibly tiny that Trixie wondered if she could even breathe. Her outrageously high heeled Louboutins clicked on the floor as she approached the other women in the room.

“Too late.” Max muttered.

“Katya…” Violet said, dragging out each syllable.  She draped one long arm around Katya’s shoulders. “It’s been so long.”

“Yes.  Yes it has.” Katya said coldly, removing her arm from her shoulders.

Violet’s gaze fell on Trixie.  “Who’s this?”

“A friend.” Katya said.

Violet regarded Trixie in a manner similar to that of a high school bully, as if she were sizing her up.

“Violet,” Max interjected.  “This is a private discussion, and you’re due onstage in five.”

Violet pouted sulkily, slinking out of the room.

“Alright, Katya.  No more smalltalk.  What are you here for?”

“I want my paycheck.”

Max steepled her fingers.  “You haven’t worked at all for the past two months.”

“The contract guaranteed paid leave, and I haven’t received any checks.” 

“So it did.”  Max narrowed her eyes.  She stood and made her way over to a safe in the corner of the room, unlocking it to reveal bundles upon bundles of money.  She threw two to Katya. “Here. You’d best go before her act is finished.”

“Thanks.  Come on, Trixie.”  Trixie and Katya stood and made their way back to the hallway.

“And Katya,” Max called after her.

Katya turned around.

“I expect you back here within the month to do shows again.”

They walked back out into the crowded club.  Violet was hanging gracefully in the air on a hoop.  Katya pulled Trixie towards the ladder. She climbed quickly, pushing the trapdoor out of the way.  They were silent on the walk back to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been absent recently; I just got back from a week long trip to Maine. I have a tumblr now, go follow me @randomaquarius13


	3. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya gets a call from a very powerful woman begging her for help.

“Alright, spill.” Trixie said as soon as the car door slammed behind her.

Katya sighed.  “What do you want to know?”

“Uh, everything?”  She turned the car on.  The engine turned over. She waved her hand.  “How do you know those people?”

Katya stared off into the distance.  It had started to rain lightly, the  _ tap, tap, tap _ of the water on the windshield providing a soft soundtrack to the conversation.  “I’ve known Max, Fame, Pearl, and-” She hesitated. “Violet for years. Scarlet is Pearl’s daughter.  It was always Max’s dream to start some sort of underground empire, and so we all helped her so it. We’d all be ‘Max’s Muses’, and we’d be the ‘exotic entertainment’.  It was fun, but men were always-” She scoffed. “They would offer us ‘propositions’, of which none of us were interested.”

“Ugh.”

Katya nodded in agreement.

“Pearl looks really young to have a daughter.” Trixie said.

“She is.  She was really young when she had her.” she said.  Noticing Trixie’s pitiful expression Katya hastily added, “But she handled it just fine.”

“That’s good.  But-” She shook her head.  “Nevermind.”

“No, what is it?” Katya implored.

Trixie spoke cautiously.  “What’s the deal with...you and Violet?”

Katya sat as frozen and silent as a statue.  “I-” She took a deep breath. “We used to be...in a relationship.”

“Oh.”  Trixie turned pink.  “Anyway, where are we going first?  Who needs a slice of justice pie?” she said, changing the subject.

“First of all,” Katya laughed.  “Never say that again,”

“What?  Who needs a slice of justice pie?”

Katya laughed again, a sort of wheezy squawk.  

The sound of Katya’s cell phone ringing interrupted the newly lightened mood.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hurriedly answering it when she saw who was calling.  “Hello?”

“Zamo?  That you?”  The voice on the other line was loud and harsh.

“Yes, Ms. Del Rio.  Who else would it be?”

“I’ve got no time for jokes, Zamo.” the other person, Ms. Del Rio, snapped.  “I’ve got eyes on her location.”

Katya breathed a sigh of relief.  “That’s good, right?”

“Not exactly,” Ms. Del Rio explained.  “She’s in Pittsburgh.”

Katya’s face fell.  “You don’t mean-”

“Needles and Thunderfuck got her.  I-” her voice broke.

“She’ll be recovered.  Trust me.”

“Just bring Adore back.” Del Rio said, her voice noticeably softer.  

“I will, Bianca.”

“And Zamo?”

“Yes?”

“Give them hell.” she growled.  There was a click, and she was gone.

“Who was that?” Trixie asked.

“Only one of the most powerful women in New York City, Ms. Bianca Del Rio.”

“What?!  Bianca Del Rio as in THE Bianca Del Rio?!”

“It’s a long story.” Katya sighed.  “I know where we’re going. I’ll drive.  Besides, you need sleep.”

Trixie looked as if she wanted to protest, but she got out of the car anyway.  She pulled open the passenger side door and settled into the seat.

“Alright then.  I think we can probably get to Pittsburgh within eight hours if we take I-90.”  She maneuvered the car out of the alleyway and onto the main road, looking for the sign that indicated the interstate.  “Okay. I’ll start at the beginning of the story with Bianca.” she said, merging onto the highway. “She gave us a lot of money to help start Max’s Mystique, and she also helped me out of some, ah, legal trouble.  I’m pretty much in her debt. I owe her a bunch. Her ‘best friend’-” (she said this in air quotes) “-went missing about a month and a half ago. Her name’s Adore Delano. A girl named Alaska Thunderfuck’s got some kind of massive grudge on her.  Adore’s from Azusa; she could stab a bitch if she wanted to, but Alaska’s girlfriend just so happens to be Sharon Needles, one of the most powerful crime bosses on the East Coast.”

“Couldn’t Bianca just, I don’t know, like, pay them to release Adore or something?” Trixie asked.

“It’s not that simple.” Katya explained.  “Needles is smart. She’d probably just take the money and keep Adore.”

“But how do we know they haven’t killed her yet?

“They wouldn’t just do that.  Like I said, Needles is pretty sharp, pun intended.  If Bianca weren’t just as smart, Sharon would probably have her eating out of the palm of her hand.” she said.  “But we’ve got to keep this quiet. Once they find out we’re trying to bust Adore out, well,” She drew a line across her throat with her finger.

Trixie gulped.  “So what are we going to do?”

“Best case scenario, we get in, take Adore, and get out, and they don’t even notice us.” Katya said.  “But of course, the best case scenario is almost never what actually goes down. We’ve got to prepare for the worst.”   
“And what is that?” she asked.

“Perhaps we’d better not talk about that.  I would hate to see your pretty head rolling across the floor.”

She gulped again.

“Welp, good night!  See you in Pittsburgh!” Katya said cheerfully.

Trixie rolled her eyes, rolling uncomfortably over to her side.  The sound of the rain on her window lulled her to sleep fairly quickly, considering all she had just learned in the span of fifteen minutes.

Katya looked over at her sleeping figure and sighed.  The multicolored lights of the silent city made patterns on the roof of the car, shining onto Trixie’s blonde hair, sharpening every curl.  She wondered what kind of trouble she was getting this poor girl into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, tell me what you think!


	4. A pit stop in Pittsburgh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is hope for Adore after all.

“Here we are!” Trixie said from the wheel.

Katya sat up in the back seat right as a cheerful sign announcing their crossing of the Pennsylvania border flew past.  She rubbed her eyes.

“Got you something.  You were asleep so I just got whatever.”  Trixie threw a brown paper bag into the backseat.  

Katya caught it.  She opened it to reveal an assortment of items from some sort of corner store.  A container of dry cereal, a fruit cup, a bottle of tea, and a spoon for the fruit.

“Sorry, they didn’t have much.”

“It’s fine.” she said, ripping open the cereal.  She crunched away on the dry little Os, spilling a few in the seat.  “How long ‘til we’re in the city?”

“40 minutes, maybe?  What are we looking for exactly?”

“An abandoned warehouse near Penn Avenue.  You can’t miss it.”

“Isn’t that a little cliche?  Organized crime headquarters in some old abandoned warehouse?”

“Meh.  Sharon can be a little cliche at times.” Katya said.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go right ahead, but I can’t promise an answer.”

“How do you know this whole crime world thing?  How’d you get mixed up in it?”

“One: that’s two questions, and two: I told you, darling, I have secrets.  I’ll explain it all in detail some time, but for now we’ve got a girl to save.”

_ An hour later; Pittsburgh _

“There it is!” Katya yelled, pointing excitedly to a large grey building with stained, obstructed windows.  “Park around the corner, behind those dumpsters.”

Trixie did as she said, making sure the car was concealed.  Katya rummaged in her bags before tossing something into her lap.  It was a black sweatshirt.

“Put it on.”

Trixie held it up in front of her, studying it for a second before unclipping her seatbelt and slipping it over her head.  She opened the door and stepped out of the car to join Katya, who was already outside with a backpack on her shoulder. Katya looked her up and down.

“Alright.  Let’s go.” She led the way over to the side of the seemingly abandoned warehouse, peeking in through the windows.  After going around two sides of the warehouse, Katya crouched down on the ground next to a basement level window. “Found her.” she breathed.  “Didn’t think it would be this easy.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to get in there?” Trixie asked.

“Easy.”  She slung her backpack onto the ground and pulled out a small hammer.  She tapped at one of the window panes, smiling with satisfaction when the brittle glass cracked easily under her touch.  

Trixie saw movement in the room behind the glass, but she couldn’t tell what, or who, it was.

Katya tapped at the glass until a network of cracks was spiderwebbed across the surface.  She hit it lightly once more, and the entire thing shattered inwards in a million crystal fractals.  Someone shifted inside the room, and a single black combat boot became visible in the beam of light that was now streaming in through the hole where the window once was.  “Adore?” Katya whispered. There was a flash of light glinting off of a head of black hair, and the face of a young woman became visible as she turned her head. Her eyes widened.  “We’re fuckin’ bustin’ you out of here and taking you back to New York.”

“Thank fuck.” the girl, Adore, whispered hoarsely.  She moved closer to the window, but the clinking of metal chains restricted her from going further.  She wore black distressed jeans over fishnet stockings and a leather jacket on top of a cropped band tee.  Her black hair was matted and tangled and her makeup was smudged. Her wrists and ankles were handcuffed.

“Hang on.  We’re coming.” Katya said.  She turned around and lowered herself feet first into the room.  It wasn’t that far down to the ground, and there was an old crate sitting under the window that aided her descent.  “This is Trixie.” she said as Trixie lowered herself in after her. She moved over to Adore and started rummaging through her backpack.  “Trix, you keep watch while I pick the locks.”

Trixie nodded, not unaware of the new nickname she’d just been given.  She positioned herself about fifteen feet away from the stairs that led upwards.  Katya made quick work of the first pair of handcuffs, and soon Adore was rubbing the welts on her wrists.  Trixie thought about how the hell she’d gotten into the situation at hand. She’d full on murdered her abusive boyfriend, hit someone with her car, picked up said person, become friends with said person in roughly twenty minutes, visited the underground night scene of Milwaukee, received a phone call from one of the most influential people in New York City, drove halfway across the country with the new friend, and was now in the process of rescuing the possible girlfriend of one of the most influential people in New York City.  Just as she was pondering writing a memoir, she heard footsteps and voices coming from the floor above. “Shh!”

Adore muttered profanities under her breath that would have made a sailor blush.

Katya worked furiously at the second pair of handcuffs.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and a pair of bright yellow stilettos clicked into view on the stairs.  A young, thin woman with long, straight, platinum blonde hair and milky white skin followed soon after. She was wearing a short yellow dress of chiffon that matched her heels and her makeup.  A puffy yellow coat completed the outfit. “What the-”

“Who the fuck are you?” Katya asked.

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” the new girl said, stopping on the stairs.  “I’m Needles.”

Katya scoffed, still working on the lock.  “No you’re not. I know Needles when I see her.  You ain’t her.”

“Oh, but I am.”  A grin spread across her perfectly painted face.  “I’m not Mom. I’m Aquaria Needles, to be exact.”

“Mom?  Jesus, Demon Lady has a kid?”

The grin was gone.  “Yes.” she snapped. “That reminds me, what the fuck are you doing?”  She leapt down the rest of the stairs, pulling a knife from her jacket right as the lock on the cuffs around Adore’s ankles clicked open.

Katya and Adore sprinted towards the window, climbing as fast as they could.

Aquaria quickly started towards the window, but not before Trixie could grab the arm that was holding the knife.  “Hey!”

Trixie grabbed the blade from her hand and threw it, listening to it skitter across the concrete floor into a dark corner of the room.  

The force of the knife being wrenched from her hand caused Aquaria to teeter on her thin heels.  Her ankles buckled and she fell, involuntarily pulling Trixie on top of her. Aquaria fell hard on her arm, and Trixie’s knee landed squarely in the middle of her forearm.  Both girls heard the sickening snap. Aquaria sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes rolled back in her head. Trixie stood up to run to the window. Aquaria tried to run after her and failed miserably, doubling over and groaning, clutching her arm.

Trixie launched herself out the window and sprinted towards her car, which was already running.  She threw herself into the passenger seat. “DRIVE!” she screamed.

Katya put the pedal all the way down to the floor, causing them to tear out of their cover and into traffic.

Trixie sat back in her seat and heaved out a laugh.  Yes, that memoir definitely had to happen at some point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I KNOW, it's been literally two months. I've been hella busy what with school starting and especially theatre. I literally had another audition today. Anyway, y'all know the drill, I love feedback. My Tumblr is @ao3randomaquarius come bother me.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! I love feedback!


End file.
